Thank Judas For The Strong Heart, For This Belief.

I’m standing in a dark place, when I was on the cusp of hope.It wasn’t a hope born out of ambition, it was the hope that was born from a sense of coming home to myself. My skin felt like my own. My heart felt strong from a season of Judas’. I was saved.

There are some groups of people in life that you give yourself over to out of the firm conviction that it is what you ought to do. Sometimes it’s the very rightest thing to do, sometimes it’s just the ought-to that makes you do it. You give yourself over and over because you’re trying so hard to allow God to shape your character, trying to listen to the elders and authorities placed around you, jsut trying to do the damn best you can.

On the day that they come and ask more than they’ve ever asked before, you better have something to hold on to. You better have a heart made by the Judas experience.

People downcast, is despairSee the disillusion everywhereHoping their bad luck will changeGets a little harder every day

People struggle, people fightFor the simple pleasures in their livesBut trouble comes from everywhereIt’s a little more than you can bear

I know that it will hurtI know that it will break your heartThe way things areAnd the way they’ve beenAnd the way they’ve always been

People shallow, self-absorbedSee the push and shove for their rewardsI, me, my is on their mindsYou can read about it in their eyes

People ruthless, people cruelSee the damage that some people doFull of hatred, full of prideIt’s enough to make you loose your mind

I know that it will hurtI know that it will break your heartThe way things areAnd the way they’ve been

I know that it will hurtI know that it will break your heartThe way things areAnd the way they’ve been

Don’t spread the discontentDon’t spread the liesDon’t make the same mistakesWith your own lifeYou never will let love survive

I know that it will hurtI know that it will break your heartThe way things areAnd the way they’ve been

I May Know The Word But Not Say ItIt’s like being stuck in the hardest place between the rock face and the boulder. One is breaking your back and the other is giving you nothing to hold on to. When you’re faced with that choice, you’ve got nowhere to go and they know it.

We’re political creatures, our slick underbellies covered in the writhing dirt of the places we go to in the midst of turmoil. Me, I look up to the light and cry out in anguish and sorrow… but I’m still stuck in the earth. I feel the darkness creeping into my body. I’m being forced to choose to do what I ought to do.

Just at the dawn of my hopeful season, when the Beloved Father has been promised light for the road, peace for my sorrows, joy for my sufferings, a new season of hope for the struggle that has been before… Judas comes and tells me I’m not done yet. Tells me of the dark road he wants me to walk. Judas comes and caresses my cheek with one hand, proclaiming what is beginning to satisfy him… and whispers in my ear how far I have to go.

With one breath he proclaims belief and in the other reminds me that I am far from acceptable. All at once Judas is my judge, my tormentor, my purgatory, my corruptor and still walks under the name friend.

The wound that comes from a friend is sharp, but this is sharper : that friendship is a guise of love, and words come to rape. On the eve of my ‘coming forth’, on the eve of God’s great promise of light – I am left naked, humiliated, unclothed and unacceptable. Judas’ ravaging of me leaves me unfit for anything.

This is the hard place. Because the only appropriate Christian response of someone in ministry is to accept hard words, untruthful or not, and respond with grace. But it feels so empty. It doesn’t feel like that has any strength or truth in it. My strong heart crumbles at acquiesing to accusation one more time.

What’s it like there outsideWith the living? From this broken down placeWhere I hideFrom the livingFrom the living

Cause I don’t care to stayWith the living

O, the bottle has been to meMy closest friend andMy worst enemyAfraid that I’ve walked a fine lineSquandered it allAnd wasted my time

I’m A Pocketbook Of Black MarksI think I’m magnetic when it comes to black marks. What is it about my life that everyone else is won over to the joy of the God journey that is just hanging around my life occassionally… except Judas. Judas counts every failure, measures every fault. Sure, Judas measures some of my successes, but never the private ones that really matter. Stacked up against each other – my personal failings next to my public successes – the comparison is intimidating.

But if you were to ask me, I would say that I’m comfortably a work in progress. Not finished yet, nowhere near. But I know my story, where i’ve come from and where I’m going. I’m fearless about the future.

i might be made of piecesbut i’m not fucking brokenso move your hand from my cheekand from my backi don’t need your strength to standi’m not broken despite the best attempts

i might be made of piecesbut i’m not overand i’m satisfied to work on thatcos on my knees, some humilityGod knows the state of my heartnot fucking broken, strong enough

this is a life in progressand I’m a heart of piecesperfectly designed for easy examinationheartbreaks and rebuilding destinationsi’m not over, i’m not over324 perfect little piecespiecing me back again, again

i have a strong heartmy mother gave it mewhen i was young and ever sincei’ve kept in good nicka strong heart it withstands heavy thingsgood luck breaking it

i might be made of piecesmostly from the inside outparts of the heart that live outside my shelland beat a tattoo that I know on my soulpieces, where’d i learn to be so stronggot it in pieces, from the broken onesbut i’m not broken i’m not brokenjust a collection

Honesty Isn’t Just Choosing To Tell The TruthIt’s choosing to live it as well, big truths and little truths.

I’m looking for…

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